


Real Dave, Fake Dave.

by Tigergirl008 (unityManipulator)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unityManipulator/pseuds/Tigergirl008
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Davesprite has an identity crisis. Based off a suggestion on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real Dave, Fake Dave.

Real Dave. Fake Dave. Real Dave. Fake Dave. There were times when Davesprite felt like the real one, and other times, when he felt like a fake, a copy of something that had more potential than he ever could. This was one of those times.  
With every beat of his wings, it felt as if he was being torn apart. The watermarks he left for John glowed from behind, from here an orange blur. Reminding him that no matter how hard he tried, he could never be real Dave.  
Eventually he landed, and curled up, running his hand over his wings. Those damn wings. As he absently stroked, orange tears welled up and fell, landing on the ground before him. Another reminder that he wasn't the real Dave.  
He began frantically tearing the feathers on his chest out, laying them in a pile before him. It hurt, oh god it hurt, but it was what was better. He didn't need the feathers. A real Dave wouldn't have feathers.  
Finally, his chest was as bare as he could get it, orange blood running down over the muscles and off his body. There. No feathers.  
What else did he have that real Dave didn't? Wings. He pulled out his sword, twisting it so that it rested at the base of his wing. The sword was ridiculously sharp, as he pushed it into the skin he felt it split, more blood welling down. He steeled himself, took a deep breath, and-  
"STOP!" Davesprite jumped, dropping the sword with a clang. He looked around for the source of the voice, and his jaw dropped when he realized, it was real Dave.  
With a sad, long look at the Knight, Davesprite shook his head gently, and whispered, more to himself than anything, "I can't. I'm a fake Dave, and I should have died a long time ago."  
With that, Davesprite picked up the sword and drove it deep into his neck. Blood drenched the ground as the sprite closed his eyes, gently letting himself drop out of the flow of consciousness.  
Suddenly, he felt himself being dragged up, the wound on his neck healing and the feathers re-growing. God damn it, he couldn't die. His fucking sprite powers would not let him die.  
Tears still leaking from his eyes, he flung himself off the cliff, not knowing if his wings would lift him, not caring if they did.  
Catching the wind, he flapped as hard as he could, losing track of the entire progression of time until he could not fly any more. He found a small cave, just big enough to stay in, and curled up in a corner.  
If he could not die, then for all intents and purposes he would simply cease to exist.


End file.
